Shadows and Dust
by Alien Angie
Summary: What if Cicero didnt die, and he and Maximus managed to get to the army in Ostia? Please rr. Part 8 is now up! Sorry I took so long... again EDIT 2009! This story is not dead...watch this space!
1. Freedom

Shadows and Dust

**_ _**

Maximus looked at the slaves. Most if them looked confused to be standing out of their cells in the middle of the night. A trusted few – Juba and Hagen that knew of Maximus' plan to assassinate Commodus looked confident

_All enemies of the Emperor die!!_

Maximus looked over to where the Praetorians hammered at the gate.

"I only need moments, so do not be careless with your lives." He grasped Hagen's hand "Strength and Honour." he whispered, squeezing the huge Germans hand. He would miss the hugely strong Germans presence. Maximus moved to Juba, whispered the same words to him, he pressed his forehead to Juba's, knowing that he would miss the black man more than anything. He gave Juba a swift pat on the shoulder, before turning and running into the passages under the cells, he heard a noise above him, and knew that Proximo was dead. He paused; the sadness that overwhelmed him was unbearable. 

He turned one last time before turning around, he saw the Gladiators fighting the Praetorians that had broken into the courtyard and grinned. The might be out numbered, but they were Gladiators, and god, how they could fight! He watched Juba and Hagen fighting easily, and hoped that he would see them again. _Shadows and Dust_, Maximus thought sadly.

Maximus raced through the tunnels, grabbing a flaming torch along the way, stopping only to retrieve his armour that Proximo had given him. When he had received the cuirass, it had been plain, but Maximus had added his horses, and a giant poplar tree, lovingly decorated in silver. Paid for with the money he had earned in the arena. He grasped his sword. It felt oddly comforting to have the weight in his hands again. His Gladius was not plain, like the weapons the other gladiators used, but had a gold inlaid handle, although not to the standard of his fine bone handled sword, Maximus had last seen in his tent in Germainia it was a fine blade.

He felt better now that he was cased in his comforting armour, not as open and vulnerable. He breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the tunnel. It had been uncomfortably claustrophobic, and Maximus had constantly worried about attacks from behind. The tunnel was barely wide enough for him to turn and defend himself.

Maximus smiled as he saw his servant Cicero with 2 horses, he made a note to release the man who had served him so loyally. Maximus whistled long and low, so that it carried only to Cicero. He turned, and saw his master, grinning broadly when he realised that he had done it. Maximus grinned back stupidly when he realised that Cicero had bought his two horses, Scarto and Argento. At the foot of which stood Marcus – his dog. 

"Cicero." He began "I can only wonder at how you managed this!" He beamed at the older man. Cicero smiled back. He knew how much it took to make his master grin like an idiot, only Selene had received that smile from Maximus. Cicero appreciated the response. It was more than he could have hoped for.

"Lets go sir," Cicero looked at him. "it's a long ride to Ostia." He said playfully before he galloped Scarto through the field and into the night with Maximus hot on his heels.

"What do you mean..._gone?_" Commodus asked Paulinus. The poor young praetorian officer trembled in front of his emperor. 

"We stormed the house as ordered Caesar, the gladiators fought back, and when they surrendered, he had vanished. No sign Caesar." Paulinus tried to force himself to sound brave, as he stared at a point slightly above Commodus' head, unflinching.

"And Proximo?" Commodus asked. Not that he really cared, that snivelling old man would never betray Maximus' whereabouts. Gladiators protected each other.

"Dead, Caesar." Paulinus said, fearfully.

"I wanted him bought to me, praetorian. I told you as such. Who killed him?" Paulinus looked into the mad eyes of the emperor, and thought of the old man. He must have been stabbed at least 40 times. When Paulinus had got to his room, he lay in a bloodied crumpled heap on the floor. His beloved rudius lying by his side.

"I don't know, Caesar." Paulinus answered truthfully.

Commodus looked at Paulinus. He hated this snivelling little brat, newly promoted to Lieutenant, and thinking he ruled the roost, always eager to please the emperor – and that made him suspicious. "Go." Commodus snapped savagely. Paulinus snapped to attention and turned to leave the room. "Oh, and Paulinus?" Commodus called him back.

"Caesar?" Paulinus asked questioningly.

"Next time I give you an order, I expect it to be carried out to the full, or you will find yourself in the arena. The prisons have been feeling rather empty lately...Do you understand?" he asked the terrified officer.

Paulinus stared at the emperor, unable to comprehend what he had been told; he could only nod dumbly to the emperor, who stood, expecting an answer before he left the room.

Once outside, Paulinus leant wearily against the wall and closed his eyes. _That was close._

_ _

Maximus cursed as he limped beside a limping Argento. Blood ran freely down his leg from the deep wound in his thigh, despite the dirty bandage tied tightly around it. He looked ahead at the figure of Cicero, also walking beside Scarto, who was also lame, having cast a shoe just after Maximus fell from Argento.

Maximus and Cicero had ridden for the best part of the night, and Rome was far behind them. Not wanting to risk exposure by travelling on the open road, they stuck to the fields. Upon coming to a fence, Cicero spurred Scarto on and cleared it expertly. Maximus, turned back to give himself a bigger run up. Argento had never been the best of jumpers. Always wanting to have a look before take-off, which often ended in Maximus ending up on his neck. Maximus was determined that this would not happen this time. He headed Argento to the fence, a natural hedge, reinforced with post and rail on the other side. Maximus spurred Argento on just before take-off, however, as soon as Argento's legs left the ground, Maximus knew that something was wrong. Argento's right hind had caught in the hedge, mid air; he twisted frantically to rid himself of the branches that grasped him. Maximus, weary from hours of riding, fell from the saddle, Argento landing heavily on top of him.

Hearing the fall, Cicero turned and galloped back to Maximus. He dismounted next his pale general and frantically lifted the struggling horse off his master's chest. Maximus closed his eyes as pain washed through his body. Maximus knew that he had broken ribs, his chest burned every time he drew a breath, but that was nothing compared to the fire that radiated from his leg. 

He glanced down, and immediately wished he hadn't. A piece of the fence protruded from his left thigh.

Maximus struggled into a sitting position, groaning in pain, he tried to stand. Cicero hurriedly ran forward to support his general. Grasping Maximus around the shoulders, the two staggered a few paces before Maximus sank wearily to his knees, before laying down.

He looked at Cicero. "Pull it out." He said, gesturing to the spike. Cicero looked at him fearfully.

"I'm not a surgeon." He whispered, blanching at the sight of so much blood.

"Neither am I." Maximus replied, reaching for the stake. He didn't want to pull it out himself, knowing that he'd likely do himself more damage. But it needed to come out, and soon. He knew for Cicero's pale complexion that he could not do it.

Maxims grasped the stake gently and flinched as the sudden movement sent pain rocketing down his leg. Closing his eyes, he gave the wood a swift tug, screaming in agony as pain washed over him. Mercifully, the pain became too much, and Maximus passed out.

Quintus stood before the emperor, unsure of why he had been summoned. Commodus had become much more violent lately, the games had increased in intensity with Commodus' increased efforts to win over the population, and yet they screamed for Maximus, and jeered when the emperor showed himself.

Commodus' hatred for the general had intensified over the last week, and had risen to a fury when he realised that his favourite arena meat had escaped. Commodus looked at Quintus, mad eyes focussing on the older man. "Quintus. Where is Maximus?" he asked calmly. Quintus looked at him sharply. He had not been expecting this.

"I don't know, Caesar."

"You don't know? Your men have been looking for him, haven't they?" He asked, feigning interest.

"Yes Caesar, but…" Commodus cut him off sharply.

"And yet they have not found him. If these men were halfway competent, they would not have let him escape. I want him found within 2 days Quintus. If he is not, I will personally choose 15 of your men to fight in the arena. The fights have become so…boring without Maximus. Wouldn't you agree?" Quintus looked at Commodus, horrified.

"Oh, Quintus?" Quintus looked at Commodus warily. "You fought with Maximus, didn't you?" Commodus asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Yes Caesar, I have been his second in command virtually since I have joined the army – since he was a Centurion." He replied, not knowing where the emperor was going with this.

"Good." Commodus answered with a smile. "If he is not found soon, I am sure that the crowds will find you just as entertaining." Commodus laughed as Quintus stalked angrily out of his quarters.

Maximus forced his eyes open, grimacing at the pain he felt in his body, his leg ached unmercifully, and each movement created stabbing pains through his ribs. Maximus watched Cicero lead a limping Scarto. _Perfect _he thought, _both horses lame, him injured, and Ostia still at least 2 nights hard ride away. _It would take them at least a week if they had to walk.

Cicero had suggested abandoning Scarto and Argento, in favour of stealing some others from a nearby farm, but Maximus could not bring himself to leave his horses. They were all he had left of his family. Marcus trotted dutifully at his masters heels, grateful for the slow pace.

Maximus cursed as the dog jumped playfully up at him, scratching at the blood soaked bandage that entwined his masters thigh. Despite the tourniquet tied tightly above the wound, it still bled, and he knew that the wound would have to be cauterised – before he bled to death.

Maximus whistled shrilly and sat down, Cicero turned, and hurried back to his general, looking worriedly at the pale, tired man by his side. 

"Build a fire." Maximus told him, "I need to take care of my leg – then we can cook dinner, once Marcus has caught it." Cicero nodded, and headed into the woods, too tired to answer, leaving Maximus to hobble the horses for the night.

Maximus muttered soothing words to the big dark bay stallion as he checked the wound on his right hock. Argento trembled as strong hands gently held the leg, and flexed the joint. Thankfully, the bone was undamaged. Just a deep cut that ran a risk of becoming infected. Maximus poured half of his water onto the wound, the tore at his tunic, before tying the strip of cloth around the cut. Maximus patted the big horse on the shoulder and whispered apologies to him. Argento had always been his favourite. Strong, fast and brave – the stallion had saved his life in battle more times than he cared to remember.

Next Maximus checked Scarto. The big chestnut was more nervous than the bay, and skittish in battle. Maximus ran his hand down the horses near fore, and examined his hoof. It was split and sore from when he had lost the shoe.

Maximus decided that he should send Cicero to the local village to have Scarto re-shod – and to buy Maximus a new horse. They would camp here until Scarto was sound – no more than a day or 2, the use Argento as a packhorse. Whist he was still lame, they would not be able to go above a walk, but at least it would ease the throbbing in Maximus' leg.

Maximus jumped as he heard a noise, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that it was only Marcus, a very dead hare clasped firmly in his jaws. The wolf dropped the hare at his master's feet, before disappearing into the woods again.

Maximus leant against a tree trunk, and began skinning his dinner. He was so intent on what he was doing, he never heard Cicero approach – a pile of wood in his arms, and a bloody hare balanced precariously on top. Marcus loped at his side, his tail thumping happily, and another hare in his jaws, and looking pleased with himself. He had good reason to be. They would eat well tonight.

Cicero looked at Maximus, "Let me see the leg, sir." He asked him gently. Maximus obeyed, letting Cicero examine the still bleeding wound. "It will have to be sealed sir" Cicero said finally, reluctant to inflict any more pain on his general. To his surprise, Maximus nodded complacently, and handed him his dagger. Cicero held the blade in the flames, and the 2 men sat in companionable silence as they waited for the blade to heat up. Once the blade had turned a glowing amber, Cicero glanced at Maximus, and he nodded. Maximus picked up a bone from his dinner and bit down. He grunted in pain as the searing heat sealed his wound. Soon the pain became too much and he passed out.

An hour later Maximus awoke to the first rays of light. He looked for Cicero, and was alarmed when he was no-where in sight. He smiled when he saw his servant approach from the woods, his hair dripping wet. Cicero took in his expression and smiled at his general.

"I thought you'd left!" Maximus laughed in relief – stopping only when pain lanced his sides.

"I'd never leave you like this!" Cicero laughed back. Maximus decided that this was as good a time as any to tell him.

"Why not? You have your freedom." Cicero looked at his general, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. Tears shone I his eyes as he realised the extent of the gift his general had just given him.

"Thank you." He managed, before needing to turn away.

Maximus felt awkward at all of the emotion, and he turned back to the fire. He knew how Cicero felt, to have your freedom after being a slave. But Maximus had only been a slave for 18 months. Cicero had been one all his life.

"I need you to go into town today Cicero." He told him, Cicero looked at Maximus shocked. They had been avoiding the towns purposefully, often taking long detours to avoid them. "Scarto only needs a new shoe, and we could buy another horse for me – Argento will be our packhorse." He added hurriedly, letting Cicero know that he had no intention of leaving him behind.

Cicero nodded. He knew that Maximus would never admit to his leg troubling him, but Cicero knew the immense pain he must be in, and knew that Maximus would never be able to walk another night with that wound.


	2. Friendship, or duty?

Shadows and Dust

Part 2: Friendship or Duty 

Quintus swore. He hated Commodus for making him do this. Although he had betrayed Maximus in Germania, that betrayal had cost Quintus dearly. He and Maximus had been friends. He would give anything for things to be the way they were before.

He knew that Maximus forgave him, the gesture of friendship given to him after he had seen him for the first time since his execution.

_My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius. Commander_ _of the armies of the North, general of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor Marcus Aurelius, father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife, and I will have my vengeance in this life or the next._

When Quintus saw Maximus in the arena, he thought he was looking at a ghost. His only thought when he realised that Maximus truly was there was "I did this." Then Maximus had pressed his fist to his heart – a gesture of friendship, and Quintus knew that all was forgiven. 

Quintus swore again. He hated the small town markets. They stunk – of cattle…and people. They were noisy, crowded, tiny and busy. The goods were far more inferior to those of Rome, and much more expensive.

Quintus didn't know what Commodus expected him to find here. This was the fourth town outside of Rome that Quintus and the praetorians had searched for Maximus, and it was growing late. Quintus turned to his lieutenant. "Tell the men to go back to camp. He's not here. I'll be there later. I need a woman." The lieutenant grinned at his officer before heading back to the men to tell them they could leave. They would be grateful, he knew. The march had been long, the search futile. He marched away happily, until he wondered why the lesser officers were never allowed into brothels. He frowned. He wished it was him that was having the woman tonight, but god knows Quintus needed one. _Perhaps it will cheer him up. _The praetorian though gloomily, god knows he needed to lighten up a little.  

Cicero walked around the market slowly, Scarto walking at his side. The horse had been shod, and a soothing ointment smeared over the cracked hoof wall. Already the lameness had subsided a little. Next to Scarto walked a big strong dapple-grey horse. He carried his head proudly, picking his feet high. Cicero had already named the big grey stallion Hercules, for he had the confidence and bravery of a god. He had no doubt that Maximus would like him. He was the sort of horse that Maximus would have chosen himself. However, Cicero was slightly annoyed at the price he had paid for him. Although he had managed to talked the owner down considerably, the horse had still cost Cicero a small fortune. 

Cicero ambled around the stalls, looking at the products he would never dream of buying – a small gold handled dagger caught his eye. A uselessly small blade, it was probably used only for decoration. Cicero shook his head in wonder of such a person who would buy this. 

Quintus was about to give up and go to camp, when he spotted Maximus' servant walking the streets of the town. Normally Quintus would have ignored him, but the fact that Cicero was leading 2 horses had sparked his interest. Hundreds of rational explanations ran through Quintus' head. Perhaps he merely needed a new horse. The chestnut he was leading was lame. Then alarm bells sounded in his head. That horse belonged to Maximus. Quintus was certain that he was nearby. Quietly, Quintus followed Cicero away from the small town, and into the fields that surrounded it.

Once Cicero had looked around the market, he swung himself up onto Hercules, grateful to take the pressure off his feet. Wearily he sank into the saddle and let the horse amble slowly back to where Maximus waited, unaware of the man that followed him. Maximus looked up when he heard Cicero arrive. He had thought that he had taken the money and left him. He was free now, and had no need to stay with a wounded slave. He lowered his head, ashamed for thinking that of Cicero.

Cicero halted the horse just paces from his General and smiled down at him. It had not been often that Maximus looked this worn. But months as a gladiator had made him muscular, he had never been weak, but now the muscles bulged from his tunic. Weak and tired – he still made a foreboding sight.

"Well?" Cicero asked, wanting Maximus' opinion on the new horse. Maximus stood up, wincing at the stabbing pain in his leg. Expertly he ran his hands down the grey horses legs, lastly looking in his mouth to check his age. He smiled.

"Perfect." Cicero smiled back, pleased that Maximus approved. "What's his name?" he asked.

"Hercules." Cicero answered proudly. Maximus snickered at the absurdity of the name, but stopped when he saw Cicero's hurt expression. "Hercules…it suits him." Maximus added, and it did. The stallion was magnificent. Strong and fast. But Maximus wondered if he could be brave in battle and live up to his name.

Quintus watched Maximus and Cicero exchange words from his hiding place in the forest, he turned as he heard a low menacing growl behind him, and he blanched.

Quintus backed warily away from the dog. Dog! That was what Maximus had called it, although in truth, it was more wolf than any dog Quintus had ever seen.

"Good boy Marcus, good boy." Quintus whispered the soothing words to it fearfully, unaware that he had backed into the clearing, and was in full view of Maximus and Cicero.

"Marcus! Leave him alone!" Maximus barked the order, winching at the sharp stab of pain that passed through his sides. Painfully he stood and began to limp over to the man that was still being held at bay by his snarling dog. Maximus paused when he realised that the man was wearing a praetorian uniform. He had realised that Commodus would send guards after him, he never thought that they would find him.

"Stay there, and don't move!" he threatened the praetorian. It was obvious that he was alone. Maximus realised that he could kill him now, and then they would never know where he was. "Turn around, and drop your weapon on the floor." He ordered. Quintus turned. There was nothing else he could do. Maximus' eyes widened as he realised who it was standing before him. Curiosity quickly turned to anger.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed angrily, his sides pounding.

Quintus decided to tell him the truth. 

"Commodus sent me. He wants you back. The crowd calls for you. The longer you are away, the more they hate Commodus. When you are there, they hate Commodus. But now they are becoming angry. He has sold the reserves of grain to pay for the games. The prisons are empty, and gladiator owners are unwilling to enter their men into the games. They never stand a chance. In the last month, only 6 gladiators have lasted more than 12 games. Your friends amongst them. But Commodus is getting bored. Last week 6 of my Praetorians were slaughtered by the lions because they had not kept their weapons in order. Commodus accused them of being Christians." Quintus paused, thinking of his dead men, wondering how many more would die before he returned to Rome. "If I do not return you, I will find myself in the arena. Commodus told me as much." Maximus looked at Quintus, furious. 

"If you try to take me back Quintus, I will kill you!" Quintus nodded.

"I know." And perhaps, he thought, I deserve to die, for listening to that brat of a prince in the first place. Quintus looked Maximus in the eye, his regret plain on his face. "Can I stay?" Maximus looked at him and smiled, Quintus breathed a sight of relief.

"Come and eat." Maximus told him, turning away, and limping slowly to the fire.

"How did you injure yourself Maximus?" Quintus asked, Maximus smiled.

"I fell off my horse." He said with a grin, Quintus grinned in return. He had known Maximus for more than 20 years, and in all that time, he had only fell from his horse twice before.


	3. All is not well

Shadows and Dust

Part 3: all is not well 

Petilius awoke the next morning. He cursed as the harsh sunlight made him wince, his head pounding unmercifully. He glanced at the almost empty amphora of wine beside his bed, wearily he grasped the bottle and drained the contents in one long gulp. Grunting, he sat up – only to freeze as the contents of his stomach threatened to spill onto the wooden floor. Slowly he stood up and stiffly pulled on his Praetorian uniform, waiting for Quintus to bring the days orders.

Quintus awoke, blinking rapidly to clear the sleepy haze from his eyes. Seeing blue sky above him, he panicked, not knowing where he was. Clumsily he jumped to his feet, reaching for his sword, and almost falling over in his haste to see his unseen enemy behind him who laughed so mockingly. Quintus lowered his eyes in embarrassment as he stood face to face with Maximus, who did not bother to disguise his laugh at his friends confusion.

"Sleep well, Quintus?" Maximus joked. Quintus stared back sleepily.

"Like a baby." He grunted, "You look better." He added, noticing that Maximus was up and about. Maximus nodded.

"Be on our way soon." Quintus looked at him in confusion.

"Be on our way where?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Ostia. Cicero saw me in the games and told the Felix that I was a Gladiator in Rome. Not surprisingly they didn't believe him, so I escaped, with his help. When they know the truth, and see me alive we will march on Rome. But since you've made an appearance we'll have to wait until Argento is sound. It shouldn't be more than 2 days." Quintus stared at his friend wide eyed.

"March on Rome?" He asked incredulously. Maximus' face clouded in anger.

"Do you think that Id let that bastard get away with what he did? Marcus never intended for him to rule. When he found this out he murdered his father, then came after me. My family were crucified, and burnt alive – but that was all part of the game for Commodus." He said bitterly. His loss bringing tears to his eyes.

"But why you?" Quintus asked, confused. Maximus turned and started Quintus in the eye, so that Quintus could see the answer. "You?" he asked, Maximus nodded sadly.

_"What would you have me do Caesar?"_

_"I want you to become protector of Rome after I die. I will empower you to one end alone. To give power back to the people of Rome, and end the corruption that has crippled it. Do you accept this great honour I ofer you?"_

_"With all my heart; no."_

_"Maximus. That is why it must be you."_

"The Emperor chose you?" Quintus asked, incredulous. Maximus nodded.

"I refused, but the Emperor was adamant that I took the position. He gave me until sunset to decide. I can only think that he told his son of his choice before anyone else." Maximus spat out the word 'son' so full of hate and derision, that it made Quintus wince.

"You refused?" Quintus asked, amazed. Maximus stared at him angrily.

"I don't want it, Quintus. I have never sought power…" Quintus snorted, jealous of Maximus power and position he had had in the army.. "I never aimed to be the Emperor's general, Quintus. But the army is something I have a talent for, and I am not ashamed at that. I have never wanted power, but I found that leadership came easily to me, and where I led, my men followed. But all I wanted was to return home, to be Maximus the farmer, rather than Maximus the general. To be with my family, not my men. But my family are gone – and my men are all I have left. I had been away from my wife, my son – my home for almost 3 years Quintus, and for what? For what? What I fought for is dead, it died the moment Commodus struck down the man I loved like a father, and then took away my chance to become one once again." Quintus stared at his friend aghast.

"You fought for Rome!" he exclaimed

"And what is Rome, Quintus? I had never seen her, yet I served her with all of my being. To me Marcus was Rome and that was all that mattered. What I have seen of the city has been from a slave wagon, and it is not the place of light that I once thought it to be. It is as corrupt and dirty as its ruler. But the people don't see this; they are blinded by Commodus' _generosity_. They thrive on the death and destruction of the games, not seeing that the money is dwindling the cities funds. Within months the people will be disease ridden and starving. That was not the Rome of Marcus Aurelius!" Maximus fumed with rage, he winced at the nagging ache in his side that wouldn't go away, and had proceeded to ache with a vengeance. Quintus stared at Maximus, pondering his words.

Petillius stood in front of Commodus, trying to keep calm, despite the Emperor's icy cool façade. 

"And where is Quintus?" Commodus asked, his tone devoid of any emotion. Petillius stared at the imperial crest on the wall, as Commodus walked slow deliberate circles around him.

"He told us…" Petillius cleared his throat, those three words had come out in a frightened croak. "He told us to go back to camp. That he would be back later. He needed a woman." Petillius added, braver now.

"And when was this?" Commodus asked in the same tone.

"2 days ago Caesar. We waited for him to return, but he didn't. I sent scouts to look for him, but we found no sign. We waited in camp for another day, Caesar. The we returned." He was trembling.

"2 days…" Commodus said thoughtfully. "Then he is dead, taken by thieves. Or he met Maximus. The outcome is the same." He said with a small smile, which vanished quickly when Petillius interrupted.

"Quintus and Maximus were friends, Caesar. Good friends as I recall." Commodus looked at him, irritated. 

"But Quintus arrested Maximus…and is no doubt feeling guilty for destroying their friendship." He added, remembering the way that Maximus had forgiven Quintus when he had seen him after the battle of Carthage. Petillius smiled, hoping to win the favour of his emperor. No matter how corrupt he may be.

"So, we find Quintus. We find Maximus." Commodus thought out loud. He looked at Petillius, and decided that this was a man that would carry out orders without question.

"Quintus is well liked by his men, isn't he?" he asked. Petillius looked the emperor in the eye and lied.

"Only by some sire, many despise Quintus' sudden promotion to commander of the Imperial Guard. He is indecisive and lazy." Commodus smiled at the poorly disguised lie, realising it for what it was. The men would follow Petillius.

"Then take the men, and dispatch of him. Do it quietly. I don't want a fuss." Petillius knew exactly what he meant. Quintus was to simply disappear.

Maximus limped towards where the horses were tethered. He muttered loving words to Argento as he stroked the powerful neck. He moved to Argento's hind legs and examined the wound. The swelling had gone down considerably, and the heat that signalled infection had left the joint. He stood up slowly, cursing at the pain in his leg. He moved towards Hercules, smiling when the big grey saw him coming. Maximus loved this powerful horse almost as much as Argento. He was skittish, and not nearly as skittish or serious as Argento but he knew when to behave. When he matured he would make a perfect war-horse. Maximus smiled at the grey.

"Shall we go for a ride?" he asked, the horse nickered in response, making Maximus laugh. "OK then Hercules" he said, slipping on the horses bridle, and vaulted nimbly onto the horses back despite his injury. Maximus whistled shrilly, and Marcus bounded happily to his side. Cicero looked up from his sleep at the sudden noise, alarmed when he saw Maximus on Hercules.

"Maximus, where are you going?" Maximus spun the horse around and smiled at his friend who was pawing sleep from his eyes.

"Don't worry Cicero. I will be back soon." He answered with a grin, before cantering into the forest. _That man will make someone a lovely wife one-day!_ Maximus couldn't control his laughter at the thought. Hercules, sensing his master's happiness broke into a gallop.

Maximus smiled. He loved the feeling of the horse underneath him, the harmony of horse and rider. The feeling of being able to fly as his horse galloped easily beneath him. He was so caught up in the feeling of freedom that he was caught unawares when Hercules came to a sudden halt, the momentum from the gallop throwing Maximus onto his neck. Maximus didn't move, but lay still against his horses neck, eyes closed trying to fight the pain in his ribs. He opened his eyes as he felt Hercules tense beneath him, ears forward and head held high. His entire body quivering – ready to flee at a moments notice. Maximus saw what had spooked his horse, and became as tense as his mount.

A century of Praetorians marched in the valley below Maximus. No doubt looking for him. Maximus sat up slowly, ignoring the throbbing in his sides. Slowly he turned Hercules back towards camp and walked silently away. As soon as he was sure he was out of earshot of the Praetorians, he kicked Hercules into a mad gallop.

Cicero and Quintus were skinning a rabbit that Quintus had miraculously caught from Argento, by dropping a net onto the unfortunate creature. They were unprepared for Maximus' arrival. The General emerged from the trees at full gallop. Hercules, sensing his riders urgency was pushing himself to the limit, covering the ground in huge strides. Maximus pulled him to a halt beside his friends. They stared up at him aghast. Never before had they seen Maximus so dishevelled. 

"Praetorians!" he panted, almost as breathless as his horse. "In the next valley. We need to move!" Maximus looked about him wild eyed. He knew that he was panicking, but he couldn't let them catch him. Couldn't go back. Although he had despised being a Gladiator, he had never realised how much the games had scared him until now.

Quintus stared up at Maximus. So they had sent a new scout for him. Commodus must think him dead – or want his just as badly as Maximus.

Maximus dismounted, careful not to let his wounded leg take the impact as he dropped to the ground. Hercules lowered his head to the ground, panting for breath. For a moment Maximus thought his wind was broken, but was relieved when his breathing eased moments later.

Cicero, sensing the urgency of the situation gathered his few things and strode towards Scarto, whom he mounted easily. Maximus gathered his belongings, pulling his currias over his tunic, and placing wolf furs over Argento's shoulders. He the pinned a grey woollen cape around his shoulders, hoping to conceal the uniform. Quintus looked at Maximus. "What about Argento?" Maximus answered the question by mounting the stallion, leaving Hercules for Quintus.

"Lets go!" Maximus urged, fear getting the better of him, and nudged Argento into a trot. He felt bad about having to ride the injured horse before he was fully healed, but he knew that he would rather ride him, that let Cicero or Quintus.

Cicero looked at Quintus, still holding Hercules' reins, before following Maximus' fleeing form on Scarto. Suddenly alone, Hercules screamed – afraid now his friends had left him. Quintus looked up at the frightened horse, before quickly mounting him. Hercules hardly gave Quintus time to mount before galloping into the forest in the direction that Maximus had taken.

Maximus reined in Argento, waiting for the rest of the party to catch up. Marcus lay at his feet, grateful for the rest. Argento stamped his foot impatiently, and Maximus flinched at the harsh sound, hoping that the Praetorians hadn't heard him. He stroked the strong dark neck, glad to be riding Argento again, the horse calmed, soothed by Maximus' touch. Maximus disliked pushing Argento so hard so soon after his injury, but 5 days rest, with the wound wrapped in strips of cold, wet cloth had done wonder for the stallion. He was still slightly lame, and the remaining lameness had disappeared as soon as the joint had loosened up. He knew that once they had reached safety, the wound would most likely become inflamed again.

Maximus jerked his head up as he heard galloping horses, and smiled as he saw Hercules bring an ashen faced Quintus to his side.

"Only you…" Quintus gasped "…would buy a horse like this!" Maximus chuckled. Quintus had never been a skilled horseman, despite coming from a high ranking senatorial family.

"There is nothing wrong with my horses." Maximus grinned as Hercules reared as Marcus ran between his legs. "You just need to understand them." He chuckled as Quintus cursed Hercules for his stupidity.

Cicero cantered up easily on Scarto. He took in Maximus' grin, and Quintus' dishevelled appearance and immediately broke into an infectious grin. 

"Miss something?" he asked in his Gaelic drawl. Quintus just stared at him.

"Nothing, nothing at all." He said curtly, urging Hercules forwards. Maximus and Cicero chuckled before following silently. 

* * *


	4. Ostia

Shadows and Dust

Part 4: Ostia The trio walked through the woods slowly and utterly dejected. The 3 horses were exhausted from the gallop. Despite the fact that they were never being pursued, they had pushed the horses to the limit – not wishing to be caught and suffer at the hands of Commodus. Maximus grimaced, his ribs protesting at the sudden movement as Argento stumbled, lame once again although not as severe as before. It had been the 4th time that he had tripped, and so Maximus swiftly dismounted, wincing slightly as the pain in his leg and side intensified. Quintus and Cicero had dismounted moments before to give their horses a chance to recover and now all 3 walked. Maximus in the lead, Quintus and Cicero following, watching both man and horse limp painfully. 

*********************************************************************

Petronius was worried. He had been looking for his commander and Maximus for 2 whole days, and yet he had been unable to find them. His men had been less that co-operative. It wasn't that they despised his recent promotion, or even that he had become the Emperor's lap dog – despite being the Emperor's personal guard, they could only take so much of his madness, and they had already been pushed beyond their limit. No, it was the fact that they were looking for their beloved commander. Commodus wanted him. Dead, or alive. And so they hadn't looked. And now it was too late.

*********************************************************************

Maximus could smell the camp before he could see it. Smoke from campfires that had been made without the threat of giving their position away to the enemy.

"Sir!" Maximus smiled

"I see it Cicero." Row after row of tents, neat and precise as only the army could be. Home. Maximus grinned at his friends.

"Lets go and introduce ourselves shall we?" he asked before swinging himself onto Argento, whose lameness had lessened once he had a chance to rest. Almost immediately, the big black horse cantered easily towards the camp, Cicero and Quintus close behind. Maximus pulled at his Generals furs, trying to improve their already immaculate appearance, oblivious to the grins of his friends.

*********************************************************************

Commodus paced his chamber, Petronius had seen him moments before, and he was furious. Angrily he replayed the conversation in his head.

_"What do you mean, they haven't been found"_

_"The men wouldn't look Caesar"_

_"You said they would follow you!"_

_"They will be punished Caesar"_

_"I will give you the men at fault Caesar…"_

_"Surely the blame must lie with the leadership…"_

_"1 man cannot command hundreds Caesar"_

_"Maximus can…I can!"_

_"But they are willing, mine are not. It takes more than a handful of men to enforce orders on 3 unwilling centuries! 1 man cannot have his eyes and ears everywhere. Once them men had been sent on a scouting party, I had no idea whether they were searching or not!"_

_"It seems not. Dismissed." _Commodus grinned slightly as he remembered the speed at which Petronius had fled the room.

_"Oh Petillius? Mine are, remember that"_

_"Caesar?"_

_"My eyes and ears – they are everywhere."_

Petillius had fled, the threat hanging heavy in the air, but he knew that he had got away with it – this time.

***********************************************************

Argento stamped his foot impatiently as his master drew him to a standstill in front of the encampments defences, allowing Quintus and Cicero to catch up, and giving himself chance to ponder what to do. He flinched as a shouted warning came down from the ramparts.

"Who goes there?" the centurion could clearly see that Maximus was a man of some stature within the army. Maximus glanced back at Quintus before answering.

"I am the former commander of these men, General Maximus Decimus Meridius and I wish to speak with the General." Maximus could see the man turn and speak to another, who ran swiftly across the camp, no doubt to fetch the new General.

"Was it wise to tell them your name?" Quintus whispered, Maximus shrugged before walking Argento through the massive gates.

A lone legate walked to greet them. "General Meridius?" he asked, addressing Maximus who nodded in reply. "Come with me sir, General Claudius has agreed to see you." The legate began to walk away, but paused and turned as he realised that Maximus was not following. 

"My friends are thirsty." He said coldly, the legate smiled.

"Of course," he looked at Quintus, "you can leave the horses at the stables with the cavalry animals, it's just to your right. Someone there will be able to tell you where you can get a drink. Sir?" the man acknowledged Maximus before striding purposely towards the Generals tent. Maximus turned towards Quintus.

"Quintus, you and Cicero find as many men as you can, and wait by the Generals tent. If you hear anything, come in sword first. I have a bad feeling about this." Quintus nodded before leaving with Cicero. Maximus watched them walk away before following the path the legate had taken. As he approached the tent, the legate dutifully held the tent flap open for Maximus to enter. 

***********************************************************

Commodus glowered at the 30 Praetorians that stood before him, all officers of varying ranks, and all officers that had led patrols looking for Maximus and Quintus.

"I expect you know why you are here?" Commodus asked quietly, one or two of the men nodded silently. "Why weren't they found?" Commodus asked, his tone dangerously quiet. One Praetorian spoke up.

"The men did not search as well as they could have Caesar, they have been punished."

"But you commanded those men." Commodus replied

"Quintus was their General, he was well liked…" Commodus fumed with rage.

"I am their Emperor! Do you say that they love me less? Quintus is a traitor. He became a traitor the moment he sided with Maximus. The men did not find him because you allowed him to get away. Now _you_ have betrayed me, and _you_ are traitors…and you will die a traitors death." The Praetorians stared at him mutely before they were dragged to the Colosseum.

***********************************************************

Maximus entered the tent slowly, taking in the elaborate surroundings that made the tent seem more like the Emperor's own rather than a Generals quarters.

"Ah, Maximus!" Claudius stood, arms outstretched as if wishing to embrace the younger man. "What have I done to receive the pleasure of this visit?"

"Sir…" Maximus began.

"Claudius." The General corrected.

"Claudius, I am here to regain my position as the commander of the Northern legions. I did not give up my position and I want them back."

Claudius nodded. "Indeed, you did not give up your position? Of course not. You were executed for treason in Germania! These are _my_ men! Guards!"

Maximus stared at Claudius; unaware of the 6 men that now surrounded him, swords drawn. "Maximus, you have made a remarkable recovery from your death, do you think that you can survive another?" Maximus took in the guards, seemingly for the first time and addressed them.

"My name in Maximus Decimus Meridius, General of _all_ of the Northern legions, you are under my command, and I order you to sheath your swords!"


	5. In the army now

PART 5 - IN THE ARMY NOW

Commodus stared down onto the sands of the Colisseum, looking at the offal that had once been his Praetorian Guard – now no more than lumps of useless meat, over which the lions fought. He turned slowly to look at the other guards in the royal box in turn.

"Prey that they are found!" he hissed. Quickly he stalked away, leaving the guards to follow, pondering their fate.

Quintus strolled into the main camp area, he was looking for a legate named Julius. A man he knew he could trust with the news that Maximus was still alive. He froze as he saw Julius walk to his tent alone. Silently he followed, the young man. He waited until he was directly behind the legate before he spoke.

"Julius, turn around…slowly…" Julius spun, his sword at Quintus' throat in an instant

"Julius…"

"You bastard!" Julius hissed "You killed Maximus!" Quintus spoke slowly, desperate not to aggravate Julius any more.

"Julius, Maximus is here."

"I don't believe you…"

"He escaped his execution, he _is _here!" Julius lowered his sword fractionally.

"Say I believe you. Why are you here? What do you want?" he hissed warily.

"I'll let Maximus explain. Just get some good men – no less than 15. We will meet up with Cicero at the stable block before moving on. We must be fast…" Quintus warned, Julius nodded.

"Is the General in trouble?" Quintus grimaced.

"Probably…" he said softly, before leaving the legate alone and confused. 

Maximus stared defiantly at the 6 men that had him surrounded. They had made no move to sheath their weapons. He drew himself to his full height – he was not overly tall, but his furs added to his now muscular bulk and made him a foreboding sight.

"Once again, I _am _the General of the Felix Legions. I _am _your commanding officer. You swore an oath of loyalty to the emperor or Rome. I am the emperors general. That oath includes loyalty to me and the army, as well as to Rome. If you refuse me, you _will_ die…" Claudius interrupted Maximus, he spoke loudly, his voice edged with barely disguised humour.

"Who are you to decide who lives and dies Maximus? You are outnumbered 6 to 1…you are like a rat. Vermin. Backed into a corner with no possible means of escape, and yet you still fight!"

Maximus showed no sign that he had heard Claudius, but kept his attention on the men who surrounded him.

"This is your last chance – sheath your swords!" The guards stood fast. "Fine!" Maximus hissed.

Quintus grinned as he saw Julius approaching with 6 men, another 15 followed, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Julius grinned as he approached Quintus, who was bent over examining Scarto's hoof. Julius stamped to attention, before risking a sidelong glance at Quintus…

"That's a whole new side of you…Sir!" he quickly added the honorific when he saw Quintus' face, the man had never been good with humour, but this once he smiled at the Legate.

"Julius, I am glad to see you!" he exclaimed. Julius had done well, and he was starting to believe that this foolhardy plan of Maximus' could work. Julius grinned.

"We're here sir. What now?"

"I want 2 men at every exit to the camp. No man, letter, parcel…anything is to leave! Understand?" Julius nodded.

"Now, the rest of us will move on the generals tent. He has 2 guards outside. They'll have to go…quietly." Julius nodded again, showing no apprehension about killing his fellow Romans. "10 men will then surround the tent, another 10 will enter with me, swords at the ready. We move on the count of 200."

Maximus stepped forward, his sword still low in his hand. He stared at the man opposite him – his blue eyes as cold as ice. Without taking his eyes off the man, Maximus lunged, and the man to his right was dead, his throat slit. The man ahead of his remained untouched. Slowly, a cold smile began to form on Maximus' face.

Quintus counted to 200, and decided that it was time to move, he looked at his mall band of men and smiled slowly.

"Lets go!" As Quintus emerged into the open he could see the Generals tent 200 yards away. There were no guards and his smile grew wider.

Seconds after Maximus had killed his first enemy, he sensed a man approaching him from behind. Still staring at the man ahead of him, he flipped the blade in his hand and thrust backwards. A second guard was down, blood pooling on the floor from the wound in his belly. Instantly a man to his left lunged at him, without hesitating, Maximus caught his sword in his left hand and beheaded his attacker. His grin grew wider, he had killed 3 men in less than 20 seconds. Without taking his eyes off the men in front of him, he bent and picked up a 2nd sword. He twirled them expertly in his hands as he advanced on the 3 remaining men.

Quintus led his men towards Claudius' tent. Julius and his men had the tent surrounded, and he nodded his tanks at them as he stalked to the tent. He was just beginning to pull the canvas door back when he froze. Silently he watched Maximus kill 3 men in seconds. His breath caught in his throat as Maximus levelled his sword at his chest.

"Step in where I can see you!" he hissed. Quintus moved slowly into the tent, his men following. Maximus chuckled when he saw him. "Put you hands down Quintus, you look ridiculous!" Quintus grinned, masking the awe and fear he now held of his friend. He stared at the floor, unable to take his eyes off the dead guards. His men doing the same. Quintus jumped as Maximus shouted.

"Don't move!" He growled at Claudius, who was trying to make his way towards the back door of the tent. The old general froze, and Maximus grinned as he realised that the older man was shaking in fear. Slowly he stalked towards the older man, who was backing away in vain. He whimpered as his back hit the wall of his tent and fearfully watched Maximus approach. 

Maximus stopped inches away from Claudius, he spoke low, for his words were for only the old man.

"Your men were nothing to me…Nothing! I spent 18 months killing some of the best gladiators in them empire. Did you hear the tales of 'The Spaniard' here in Ostia?" Maximus asked, knowing that the tales of his feats in the arena were legendary. "I am the Spaniard Claudius, and yet you expect to hold me with 6 men…" Maximus stopped, letting the thought hang heavy in the air as he changed subject. "What has the emperor promised you Claudius? These men should be training, and yet they drink and party like whores! You fritter away your days in a tent fit for the emperor himself, and surround yourself with guards to fulfil your petty self importance…And you! The emperor brings you out of retirement, to take my place! The whole army knows you are a joke, Claudius. A lap dog to the emperor! You are old Claudius, but that is no fault you can remedy. But you are also weak…and stupid. And those faults are grave indeed. You dither like an old man, whilst your men fight and die for you. You are unworthy of this position. You are unworthy of Rome. And you are unworthy of my time! With each statement, Maximus had raised his voice so that the others in the tent could hear him. With one last cold look at Claudius, Maximus turned away.

"Quintus, fetch some good men. I want this man restrained and guarded." He stared defiantly at Claudius as the older man was led away.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors note: Ok guys - I am unbelievably sorry for keeping you waiting for this part. I have been so busy with work, and university that I haven't had the time to even think about picking up from where I left off. Im not proud of this chapter, I had become so distanced from this story, I have found it hard to get back into it, so I think it is the worst of the lot! I hope to have the next part done soon, but Im still really busy so don't count on it!

Please R&R and keep a poor student happy!


	6. A crisis of confidence

Shadows and Dust Chapter 6 - A crisis of confidence  
  
Commodus placed his head in his hands and surveyed the empty room around him. Alone.I'm always alone. He shook the niggling fear from the back of his mind annoyed at the absurdity of his fear - and grateful that it wasn't dark. He closed his eyes against the pounding in his head which seemed to intensify with every passing heartbeat. Once, his sister would have been there with a kind word and a tonic to take his pain away, but no more. Not since he had learned of her treachery. His curse was muffled by his hands as he thought about the betrayal. He had loved her, with his body and soul and yet she would not repay that love. It was Maximus, always Maximus that managed to outshine him. It was Maximus who his father had named as his son and heir. It was Maximus' name that the crowds chanted. It was Maximus to whom his sister had pledged her loyalty. And it was Maximus that Commodus vowed to kill.  
  
Quintus stared at Maximus who had gingerly sat on the old mans bed, it was the first time he had given his general a thorough glance and he was worried about how pale and drawn he seemed, how he appeared to be a shadow of his former self. Slowly Maximus raised his face, staring Quintus in the eye. The older man was taken aback by how cold Maximus' glance was and he looked away.  
  
"What's the matter Quintus? Why can you not look me in the eye? Do you not like what you see?" Maximus' voice was soft and low, holding a hint of danger.  
  
Quintus kept his gaze on the floor.  
  
"You are different Maximus. You have changed." Maximus' eyes grew angry, his tone harsh.  
  
"Of course I've changed! Do you expect any man to live through what I have and remain unscathed? To remain unchanged? I have spent over a year killing innocent men.men whose only fault was to be born poor, a slave, a Gladiator. Perhaps to have suffered the misfortune of being captured in battle.there is no honour there Quintus. Before I killed men that chose to oppose Rome, to defend my Emperor, my friends, my family.they are all gone Quintus. What do I fight for now?" Maximus' tone grew soft once again "Who do I fight for now?"  
  
Quintus stepped towards Maximus, and crouched down before him, he reached out a hand and lifted Maximus' chin so he could look in his eyes. Now there was only sadness in the Generals eyes.  
  
"You still fight for those people Maximus, you fight to restore what is right. You are fighting for every man in the empire - to free them of Commodus. And you fight for yourself. You are a great man Maximus, you have a great spirit - do not let if fail you now. Remember who you are. You can do this - we can do this. Remember Marcus' dream Maximus. Do not let your loss be for nothing." He paused, reaching out a hand to clasp Maximus' shoulder "Strength and Honour my friend."  
  
Maximus smiled softly, considering his friends words.  
  
"We can do this Quintus." He said softly.  
  
"Yes, we can. We will." Quintus spoke, his tone forceful trying to drive his conviction into Maximus.  
  
"If we fail Quintus, we will die."  
  
"We wont fail Maximus."  
  
"We will die." Maximus continued, as if Quintus had never spoken. "You, me, the men who we command.and anyone that Commodus believed to have been involved in this. That's a lot of lives on the line Quintus. I have no fear of death, once I am dead I will return home to my family. My wife. My son.What of you Quintus? No good can come of your death." Quintus smiled, his hand was still resting on Maximus shoulder and he gave it a friendly squeeze.  
  
"Maximus, I am dead anyway. If we don't do this Commodus will have me executed for desertion. As for the men - they are soldiers. Its is their duty to fight, and if necessary, die for the empire. You are a commander, a leader. Your men love you. They would follow you into Hades if you so asked it of them, and they would do it with a smile on their face. This is not the first time you have led me into battle, and I prey it will not be the last." He added with a smile.  
  
Maximus smiled back, when Quintus looked in his eyes again, some of Maximus' old confidence was back there but Quintus could not help but feel that some part of Maximus had died the day he had been arrested, and it was not coming back. Maximus stood slowly, and placed his hand over Quintus' before placing it on Quintus' shoulder.  
  
"Strength and Honour, my friend." Quintus smiled openly. "It has been too long since I have heard those words." He said softly before rising and enveloping Maximus in a hug. Maximus was taken aback for a moment, before returning the gesture in kind. And for the first time since entering the camp he believed that they would be victorious. We can do this! Slowly Maximus pulled away from the hug, he looked at Quintus and smiled, letting him know that his old strength was back.  
  
"Quintus, rally the men. I want them in the parade ground within one hour. Do not tell them I am here." Quintus nodded, and turned to leave the tent. "Quintus." The older man paused, and looked at Maximus questioningly. "Thank you." He said softly. Quintus turned round and stood to his full height, at attention.  
  
"For nothing, Maximus...and I.I would be grateful if you did not thank me again." Maximus stared at him confused.  
  
"Quintus, I owe you my thanks."  
  
"You owe me nothing!" Quintus spat. "If I had stood by you to begin with, none of this would have happened"  
  
"Quintus, if you had stood by me to begin with, we would not be here. You are right in that respect. We would both be dead. Commodus would have had you executed by my side." Quintus looked at him, anger still evident on his face.  
  
"Maximus, I am with you now. No matter what. You do understand that don't you? No matter what, I will not leave your side. I will not doubt you again."  
  
"I know that Quintus, and I thank you." With those last two words, Quintus stared at the floor, before turning and leaving the tent.  
  
Authors Note  
  
Oh my god. Im so sorry for those of you that are still with me. Theres no excuse for not posting this chapter sooner. I have been so busy with my studies and work that this story just took the back burner for a while. I really enjoyed writing this chapter though, even though its short, and not brilliant it was nice to be back writing about old Max! LOL Im gonna try and get the next chapter written and posted before the end of the month so bear with me , theres quite a bit to go yet, and I still don't know where this story is going exactly, or how it will end. Anyway, once again Im more sorry than you could possibly ever imagine! Angie xxxxx 


	7. Guilt and Blame Cause and Consequence

Chapter 7

Guilt and Blame. Cause and Consequence

Quintus stopped as he left the tent, he breathed deeply. For a moment there he had seen nothing in Maximus' eyes. No love, no kindness. Just cold. A coldness that had scared him. That had left him feeling that something was long past saving in Maximus' soul. Something that was irreparably damaged.  Something he had had a hand in. And it had terrified him. Maximus was right. He could no longer look him in the eye. For what was held in those cerulean depths told only of pain, loss sorrow and above all, a cold hatred. Not directed at him, but hatred all the same. And so powerful. So, so powerful. All directed at one man.

One.

Commodus.

Maximus closed his eyes. He was weary. Bone weary. His head throbbed in time with his ribs and his leg was a dull thumping ache. He looked around him, stared at the blood left by them men he had killed. Their bodies removed by the men who now guarded the tent. His tent. He sighed, a sigh of sorrow, loss tiredness, defeat. Yes defeat. For even if he was to win against the young emperor. To send his soul into the very deepest darkest depths of  Hades, Commodus would still be victorious. For he had already defeated Maximus. He had crushed him in one move by taking the very things he held dearest.

His Wife.

His Son.

His Emperor.

And his belief.

His belief that Rome was the light. Elysium on earth. For all the had seen of that _great_ city was the stench of death and decay – and above all corruption.

He sighed again and lay back on the bed, suddenly weary. His body bowing under the pressure that he carried. And as he felt his body slip into unconsciousness he remembered the emperors words

_"You have proven your valor once again, Maximus. Let us hope for the last time."   
**"** There is no one left to fight, sire."   
**"** There is always someone left to fight…"_

He fell asleep with one name on his lips.

Commodus.

Commodus sat with his head in his hands. Senator Falco watching him.

"Emperor, you cannot continue to put your guard in the arena. They are there to protect you. Do you not see that there is disaffection with the men? They…"

Commodus stared at Falco.

"They what? The men did not perform their duty. They were punished. I cannot let men betray me Falco. If they betray me then they do not love me. If they don't love me, how will they ever follow me?" Falco flinched from the hardness of Commodus' stare.

"There is a fine line between fear and love sire, if the men fear you…"

"Then they will follow me." Commodus interrupted. Falco softened his voice.

"They may follow you, but they will never love you. And fear can be overcome. And if they do not fear you, and they do not love you. Then they will not follow you."

Commodus flinched as though struck.

"I love my people, they are my children…they will do as I command." Commodus spoke harshly, his voice faltering on the last word

Falco breathed deeply, composing himself.

"But sire, would they do as you command if someone else arose to command them? The people are yours to love, but they are also your greatest tool, your greatest weapon. With the people behind you nothing can touch you. Fear is fickle. Help the people love you sire. They will soon forget his name."

Commodus stared at Falco, his head cocked to one side absorbing his words

"Yes…I will make them love me. There is a plague is there not?"

"Yes sire, in the Greek quarter."

"Then ensure they have supplies…food and water…"

"Very good sire." Falco smiled and stood to leave.

"And Falco?" The Senator paused, and looked at Commodus questioningly.

"Yes Sire?"

"If someone were to oppose me…you would follow me? Wouldn't you?" Falco's jaw dropped open, caught at a loss for words. He knew it was fear that had sprung the question. There was a hint of malice, a challenge in the words.

Falco dipped his head.

"Of course, sire" he said softly, trying to hide the hesitance in his voice. He turned and left, striding quickly to his own quarters.

"Oh Falco…I shall be watching you…I shall watch you very carefully indeed…" Commodus whispered softly to the empty room.

Julius stood to attention as he saw Quintus approaching, blood stained his tunica from the dead men he had helped to bury, he futilely tried to brush it away. Quintus saw the gesture and he wore a smile as he approached the younger legate.

"Julius, Maximus has requested that all men be paraded within the hour. Do what you can to hide word of his presence here, though I fear that rumors are already rampant. For now, leave men guarding the gates. No man is to leave until Maximus had addressed the men. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" Julius snapped to attention and turned ready to perform his tasks, utterly professional once again.

"Julius!" Quintus called, Julius paused. He turned to face Quintus, and eyebrow raised in question. "I thank you for your help earlier. We could not have done it without you."

Julius smiled. "No thanks are needed sir, none." And with that he walked away.

Quintus paced outside Maximus' tent. The hour was nearly up and there had been no sight nor sound from Maximus since he had left him earlier. Frustrated (and though he were loathe to admit it, a little worried) he entered the tent.

"Maximus!" he called softly, rewarded with a grunt from the bedchamber. He headed towards the room, "Maximus?" he called again, but fell silent as he saw his general asleep, sprawled on the bed still wearing his heavy bronze curiass, and in the grips of a nightmare.

"Grumph…mmmm…no…" Maximus muttered fitfully in his sleep, a fine covering of sweat across his face. Quintus noted how his features seemed pale and drawn. He reached out to him, and grasped his shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Maximus! Wake up…Maximus…" Despite expecting it, he jumped as he felt the point of a dagger press against his throat. He glanced down and saw Maximus staring at him, his eyes holding the same cold glare as before. He cleared his throat.

"Maximus! Its me…the men are starting to parade. The hour is almost up I thought…"

Maximus blinked once, slowly and deliberately before lowering the blade.

"I know it is you Quintus." Maximus said softly, sleep still heavy in his voice. "That is why the blade stayed in my hand and not in your throat." He said sharply.

Quintus sat up, taken aback by the harshness of Maximus' tone.

"You have not forgiven me…" Quintus muttered softly

"What?!" Maximus hissed

"For my betrayal," Quintus continued softly "You have not forgiven me for my betrayal in Germania."

Maximus looked at him, stared hard at his friend, and he could almost see the pressure the betrayal held over Quintus, he could see it in the set of his shoulders.

"I have forgiven you Quintus. You were doing your duty. We have been here before. I forgive you, with all my heart I forgive you…but I cannot forget."

"Maximus…I…" Maximus raised a had, stopping the flow of words.

"I hold nothing against you Quintus. For a short time I blamed you, but I have often contemplated what my own reaction would have been if our positions had been reversed…and I know that I would have come for you, just as you came for me. It is a friends duty…" Maximus stared hard at Quintus "…and you are my friend. Do not forget that."

Quintus raised his glance to look Maximus in the eye, the coldness had once again disappeared, but Quintus could still feel the betrayal and hurt radiating of Maximus in waves. His eyes once again holding the same sad mix of hurt, pain, loss and sorrow. And of a betrayal so deep it could never be removed.

"I will jot forget, Maximus. And I am grateful for your friendship."

"No gratitude is necessary Quintus, we have been friends for too many years and through too many campaigns to owe any debts. I see the burden of your guilt you carry Quintus, and it saddens me. I tell you again that if it were not you it would have been another – with you in a grave, and you have helped me now far more than another man would, or could have helped me. And for that I owe you…"

"But…"

"But nothing! You are resolved of guilt Quintus. If it were not for you I may not have made it here. If it were not for me you would not be here. If Marcus had not requested I be his heir we would still be in Germania…or home." Maximus' voice faltered as he mentioned home.

_"Do you remember the last time you were home?"_

_"Two years, two hundred and sixty-four days, and this morning."___

"Or if he had made his announcement public we would be in Rome, with you in the Senate…" Quintus spoke, his voice soft with wonder

Maximus smiled openly.

"Finally he understands! No manner of wishful thinking will change the past Quintus. Here is here, and now is now. Nothing is going to change that. Nothing!" Maximus grasped Quintus' shoulders hard, staring into his eyes as he spoke, driving the truth home. "Now lets not speak of it again." Maximus added softly. Quintus nodded.

"Agreed."

Maximus stood, rubbing his eyes hard, he flinched as he put weight onto his injured leg.

"Are you well Maximus?" Quintus asked concerned

"I am well." Maximus answered curtly. It was all Quintus knew he would receive in way of answer from his General, who would rarely speak about his pains, preferring to retreat into his bolt hole to lick his wounds in peace and quite. Quintus could still see the pain etched on the strong proud face though, the weariness that tugged at his entire being.

They both jumped as they hear a voice outside of the tent.

"General Maximus!"

Quintus opened the tent, his hand ready on the hilt of his sword. His stance relaxed as he saw Julius waiting before him.

"The men are ready sir!" Julius spoke, at attention.

Maximus appeared before Quintus could answer.

"Julius! It does me good to see you!" Maximus spoke softly.

Julius grinned "It does me good to see you too sir!" he spoke softly, no more words needed. Maximus dusted at his tunic, suddenly nervous in the seriousness of the situation.

He glanced at Quintus, who smiled at him nervously.

Maximus stood tall, he breathed deeply and strode through the tent flap. He paused as he saw Cicero holding Hercules waiting for him. Maximus nodded his hello before swinging himself onto his horse. Hercules fidgeted in his excitement, and Maximus could feel his blood quicken in the familiarity of the situation.

Slowly he walked his horse towards the parade ground, flanked by Julius' men. Quintus at his side. And every inch the general.

TBC


	8. Now we march

Chapter 8: Now we March…

Commodus paced up and down his chamber, muttering to himself…Falco could not be trusted. That much was evident from the last conversation he had held with the senator. And if one member of the senate was ready to rise against him, then there could only be more plotting against him.

He spun around, startled by a sudden noise but he relaxed as he saw who it was who had disturbed him.

"Sister."

"Commodus…perhaps you should rest. I can hear you pacing all the way from my chamber."

Commodus sneered at her.

"Do you care sister? You know I cannot sleep alone…" He leered at her, edging forwards, inviting a kiss.

Lucilla turned slightly, pretending she had not noticed.

"You are not alone brother…here…" Commodus ignored the glass of water she was holding out to him.

"I have decided. Tomorrow is the day." He spoke softly

"The day for what, brother." Lucilla asked, already knowing the answer. The hesitance obvious in her voice.

He turned to face her, a soft smile playing across his face.

"To announce the dissolution of the senate. Senator Falco cannot be trusted. I felt it today…if he is ready to rise against me, there must be more. Tomorrow Senator Falco will be arrested, the senate dissolved. And it will just be me…me and you and the people of Rome. They way it should have been from the beginning."

Lucilla tried not to flinch from the mad glint shining in her brothers eyes.

"Sleep, brother." She said softly, before turning to leave the room.

Maximus could feel his heart pounding. The sound echoing through his head as the enormity of the situation dawned on him. He was doing what no other General had done.

He was taking an army. The Imperial armies of Rome. And he was going to attack Rome.

Even the thought terrified him. Rome. The golden city. The heart of the Empire. Everything he had lived, and would gladly die for. And now he was going to march an army into her heart.

Quintus sneaked a look at Maximus, the general held his head high, staring straight ahead, but Quintus recognised the tense set of his shoulders, the unflinching gaze and knew this was taking a greater toll on his commander than he was letting on.

There was a feint buzz amongst the men gathered in the parade ground, an air of curiosity as they watched the procession approach. Whispered exclamations of the identity of the cloaked man spread through the men like wildfire. By the time Maximus had reached the parade ground the men were quiet – an apprehensive silence hanging over them.

Maximus stared out at the men, struck by the familiarity of the situation. He paused, desperately wanting to glance at Quintus, to make sure what he was doing was right. That this was not just some foolhardy quest for revenge but he dared not, fearing it would be a display of weakness.

He walked Hercules forwards ahead of his guard and stared out over the mass of men before speaking. His voice was low, but carried easily across the hoards of men before him.

"My name is General Maximus Decimus Meridius…" an excited buzz broke out amongst the men causing a slight smile to form on Maximus' face, which he quelled almost as soon as it began. "General Claudius is no longer in command. He has resigned his post and is under arrest." Maximus could sense the confusion in the camp. "As of now I am back in command…"Maximus paused as a cheer broke out amongst the gathered men, he let it go on for a moment before raising a hand to quell the noise, a slight grimace broke out across his face as the movement tugged at his ribs. He hesitated before speaking again. "I have one favour to ask of you – you do not have to do it – but I ask you to act on your loyalty to Rome and your Emperor Marcus Aurelius before making a decision…"

Petillius paced in his quarters. He was worried. He had men posted – albeit thinly – in the provinces near Rome where he believed Maximus…and Quintus could hide. But he knew it was not enough. The Praetorian Guard was small enough, but with Commodus executing men for their failure to find Maximus their numbers were dwindling.

The guard totalled only 870 men. Commodus had executed 30 officers only days before – the emperor kept almost 100 men with him at all times as his bodyguard and escort. There were men needed to guard the imperial palace and to police the streets of Rome…he did not have enough men to find Maximus…he was not even sure that Maximus should be found.

Maximus stared out at the men, they had fallen quiet after the solemnity of his statement, he could sense the tension in the air but did not dare risk a glance behind him to look at Quintus for fear it would show weakness. He could feel the tension rolling off the older man in waves, and understood it. For if this went wrong. If they did not receive the backing of the army, if the men were not willing then it would all be for nothing. He would have to retreat, to hide. Alone. A shadow of his former self. Always knowing that he had failed his family, and that their murderer was alive and well.

Maximus paused, not quite knowing what to say.

"I need your help. " The men began to murmur, this was not what they had expected. "There is a criminal and a murder at large in Rome, and we must find him." The murmur grew louder, this was not what they were for! They were soldiers, not policemen. The Praetorians kept peace in the city. "This is a task for which the Praetorian Guard are not well suited…" He paused "Your Emperor was murdered." The men grew louder. Commodus was _dead_? Maximus continued "And his son sits on his throne with impunity." The men fell quiet instantly. "Almost 2 years ago Marcus Aurelius called me into his tent. He asked me to watch over Rome as its protector until the Senate were ready to regain control and return her to a republic. He had no intention of his son taking power. _Commodus" _He sneered the word "Murdered his father. I refused his hand and was arrested." He smiled slightly "And now I return to fulfil the Emperors dream. The man on the throne is a murderer, a fraud and he must be bought to justice."

Maximus stared out at the men. He had taken a huge risk he knew, he had no right nor authority to take these men, if the men favoured Commodus then he would be arrested, handed over to the emperor and executed. He continued.

"We must remove Commodus. He is not a moral man. He cannot rule, he _must_ not rule." Maximus felt a little stronger as he head Marcus' words. "You know this. And what I ask of you now is what no other Roman has done. To save Rome, we must march on her. This will not be an easy battle, we are fighting out own countrymen…" Maximus' words were drowned out as the men called, as one.

"For the Emperor!"

Maximus at last allowed himself to look at Quintus, the relief was clearly visible on Quintus' face, and he felt a huge weight off his shoulder himself. He remembered the old mans words _"Commodus knows you have the support of the army…"_. Had Marcus seen this all along? Had he foreseen that Maximus would never really be anything other than a soldier, and to save Rome he must first wound her grievously? He turned to face the men once more.

"We have only hours. The Praetorian are looking for Quintus and I and we must push forward whilst we have the element of surprise. Strength and Honour." Maximus turned and began walking away, though a sudden shout made him twist in his saddle, the sudden movement tugging at his ribs and making him grimace painfully. He raised his helmet in acknowledgement of the men before walking away to the cries of the men.

"Maximus! Maximus! Maximus! Maximus!…"

Maximus rode of the parade ground, a huge weight lifted from his shoulders, but still bowed down by the enormity of the situation. He looked at Quintus.

"Thanks you, my friend. For being at my side." He said softly, the words almost inaudible. Quintus paused and looked at him, a small smile playing across his lips.

"And that is where I shall remain." He answered solemnly.

Maximus smiled back, a friendship so deep that it could never be removed still blossomed between them. And it only grew deeper.

"Good, for now we march."

Authors note – so sorry guys! I can't believe that this story is taking me 3 years! 3 Years can you believe it? And its only 30 pages long! I've had toilet breaks that used more paper! LOL

For those of you that are still out there – especially **AA Battery** (you made me get this posted tonight!) So sorry for the delay, I hope you bear with me, and if you like what I have I want to do my sequel to "Strength and Honour" and I have a half written fic on paper which is 95sides of A4 at the moment called "Dying is Easier" which I hope to type up soon…but…I have work and horses that take first place…and I am trying (though not very hard) to research Narcissus so that I can write a fictional novel on the life of the gladiator that really killed Commodus!


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